Spies Like Us
by Mercury-Moon-7490195
Summary: Agent Touzoku wasn't exactly pleased to be assigned a new partner. Thiefshipping, Spy-AU


One of the higher ups stopped him in the hallway. "Congratulations, Agent Touzoku." he said, shaking his hand. "I heard about your promotion from Agent Z. Well done."

Bakura only nodded curtly, shaking his hand and proceeding up to the highest office in the building. He knocked twice, and entered.

Agent Z did not turn around. "You have a new assignment," he said blankly, facing the window. "You'll find the details on the desk."

Bakura flipped through it briefly. "You can't be serious," he muttered.

"I'm always serious."

"I'm not your errand boy," Bakura said coolly. "I don't need to remind you that you hired me to go after the Pharaoh, nothing more." He started towards the shredder. "If you just wanted me to pick up other agents, then I'll just go after him on my own."

"Even you know you can't do that." He stood, glaring at Bakura. "You need me, more than I need you. Now you'll want to meet this man…He's going to help you."

"I don't need help." Bakura turned, crumpling the paper in his hand. "And I don't need you." He strode out of the office, heading for home to change.

"This is bullshit," he muttered to himself, straightening the cuffs of his suit as he stepped out of the bedroom. "I'm not here to go around, retrieving some upstart agent from Egypt—"

There was the click of a gun at his temple. "Well you got one thing right," a snide voice murmured in his ear. "Egypt, born, raised and trained." A hand spun him around, pulling him face to face with a pair of violet eyes, deep set behind blond bangs.

"Agent Namu." Bakura said, pushing his rage at being caught unawares into the back of his mind. "This certainly isn't where we were arranged to meet."

The man wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That's the name they gave you to call me?" He holstered his gun, extending a hand. "Ishtar. Marik Ishtar."

"Bakura," He grunted, pulling away. "You should have waited at the bar, someone could have followed you."

Marik grinned. "Paranoid, are we? Though not paranoid enough to deadbolt your tiny bathroom window."

"That was locked." he growled. "And no one can fit through there."

"Not locked enough." Marik sat in one of Bakura's leather chairs, kicking his feet over the arms. "Anyways, I got bored. I don't like being bored. I wasn't followed."

Bakura shot him a glare. "Bodyguards?"

"Enough to know I'm safe…Well, safer." He nodded towards the decanter of scotch on the table. "If you don't mind."

Bakura poured himself a glass, knocking it back before Marik could reach for it. "I don't remember offering," he said, sitting opposite him. "You should have had some at the bar, if you wanted a drink."

Marik laughed, shaking his head. "Have you ever tried to climb in a small window after more than one shot?"

"On multiple occasions." Another scotch to steady him. "So if you weren't going to wait for me, then why are you here?"

"I'm sure you can guess." Marik leaned in, his suit gaping open to reveal the contours of a bronze, sculpted chest. "I have my orders too…headquarters to please…a new partner to meet, of course."

Bakura stared at him, lips pursed behind his glass. He knew this, of course. This new figure was not unfamiliar, he knew his type. Always looking for any way to impress, to strut whatever stuff he may have for whomever would watch. The only thing that perturbed him was how intrigued he was by the display. "You wanted to size me up," He remarked, leaning back in his chair. "See just who you're working with, how easy he'll be to control. I'm not the one who's new to the game here, Mr. Ishtar."

The smile on his face never faltered as Marik stood, strolling over to the table and pouring his own glass of scotch. "I may be new to the agency, but I'm far from the child you think me to be." He sipped it smoothly, leaning against the table. "You're just upset because you know that you can't read me as easily as you can everyone else." He strolled closer, leering down at Bakura. "You're used to working on your own, getting all of the attention, and now you'll have to share the spotlight…and it's tearing you up inside—"

In a flash Bakura was on his feet, knifeblade flashing in the lamplight as it swung towards the blond. Marik blocked it with his gun, teeth gleaming in a predatory smile.

"You know nothing about me," Bakura growled. "Who I am, why I'm here. Why I fight. Don't you dare assume you know me, Ishtar."

Marik raised an eyebrow. "Interesting," He murmured, eyes scanning his face, the knife. "You know, they say that sometimes, men prefer knives to guns because they're sexually frustrated…that they get their release through penetrating their victims with a knife because they, for whatever reason, can't use their own…."

Bakura growled, backing up. "You're talking of serial killers," he hissed. "If you think you can fuck with me, I'll be sending you back to Egypt in pieces." He re-sheathed his knife, sinking into his chair. "Are we understood?"

"But of course." Marik chuckled. He put a finger to his ear, listening. "Yes, Rishid, I'll be right there." He stood, meeting Bakura's eyes with a strange gaze, a look he couldn't pull away from. "I think this will do nicely. I look forward to working with you more intimately, Bakura. I would stay longer, but I have a hotel to check into." He clapped a leather gloved-hand on Bakura's shoulder, eyes twinkling. "I'll see you tomorrow for briefing, I believe. Until then…" He left the words hanging in the air as he turned and strode out the door, climbing astride a motorcycle and speeding away, followed shortly by a taller, balding man speeding off behind him.

He knew it was probably his bodyguard, but part of him hoped it was an assassin. He poured himself another drink and turned on the TV, trying to deny the tiny corner of his brain that was excited for tomorrow to come.


End file.
